


Punishment Duty

by BalloonArcade



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Double Penetration, Multi, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Self Service, Sticky, Toys, authority kink, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11962386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalloonArcade/pseuds/BalloonArcade
Summary: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker pull pranks around the base and deliberately break the rules because getting disciplined by Prowl revs them up like nothing else. They spend their time in the brig facing each other to exhaustion.When Prowl discovers just how much they are enjoying their punishments, he sets his battle computer to work for a solution.





	Punishment Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Pushing my boundaries by trying a porn prompt.
> 
> Anon prompt from Tumblr's maccadams-filthy-fills:  
> The reason Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are such brats around the base is that getting disciplined by Prowl revs them up like nothing else. They spend their time in the brig facing each other unconscious. What is Prowl going to do when he discovers just how much they are enjoying their punishments?

Prowl watched, unable to tear his optics away from the screen.

All this time he had thought they were fighting each other. Dented, scratched and exhausted with paint transfers all over the walls and each other when he opened the brig to release them. Sunstreaker, always storming frustrated toward the brig at being roped into his twin’s punishment for pranks, then forced to share a cell with the object of his ire after Prowl verbally tore into both of them…

Fighting between them had made logical sense.

The screen in front of him told a different story.

He had installed a camera into the brig he regularly assigned them, attempting to figure out why the two of them were well behaved the entire month Prowl was gone on a mission.

In and out of the brig in a week, more days than not, they were a menace on the Ark - to Prowl specifically it seemed. Newly transferred to Prime’s guard before they launched to Earth, they took up far too much of Prowl’s time with their pranks. Optimus told him it was all in his head.

Staring at the screen, his battle computer engaged, he collected more datapoints he needed before he could make a solid solution.

That’s what he kept telling himself anyway. 

Leaning back on his chair, door wings flared, he snapped open his pelvic plating and teased his pressurizing spike in his right hand. A pleasant tingle of charge shot through him as he gripped it harder and increased his pace while Sideswipe writhed and wiggled, pinned under his twin. Pumping himself in time with Sunstreaker riding hard on his twin’s spike’s on the live feed, he brought a finger from his other hand toward his valve and flicked his node like it was being ravished by an eager, obedient tongue.

With a sharp invent at the pleasure that shot through his frame, Prowl placed his pedes up against the top of his desk, spreading and baring his valve toward the screen and plunged in a finger, seeking out an internal node. Vents flared wide as charge built in his frame, Prowl added a second finger in time with Sunstreaker reaching back and working a false white and black spike with red and blue biolights into his twin’s valve.

And he watched them from within his office: envisioning the golden frontliner riding hard on the spike Prowl now gripped and jerked. Prowl’s fingers became thrusts and tongue both, imagining holding the red twin’s face against his valve to be devoured. He’d grind himself on Sideswipe’s face, setting the pace.

_Sideswipe would finally shut up._

A smirk tugged at his lips at that thought prompted from his battle computer.

Any of the red frontliner’s vocalizations, muffled and vibrating against Prowl’s dripping valve, while whining and clenching his own valve on nothing. Empty as punishment, not permitted to touch his spike or valve while Sunstreaker bragged that he told him he’d get caught. Two of Sideswipe’s fingers, working with his tongue in his commanding officer, seeking, thrusting and sucking nodes while he stroked his twin’s spike in his other hand. Transfluid would begin to bead at the tips of both of their spikes, wet lubricant beginning to drip down Sideswipe’s legs. Sunstreaker riding hard up and down Prowl’s spike as his reward for being the good twin, until Prowl overloaded into him. He’d bring Sideswipe’s face to Sunstreaker’s valve, telling him he needed to learn to clean up the mess he cajoled his twin into making.

That seemed to be what got them off.

It was difficult to tell.

More than half their talk occurred along their bond but Prowl, with his battle computer running, had watched them in the brig five separate times now.

And rewatched again and again as he brought himself to overload after overload.

He had learned every whisper that resulted in every begging moan. Every whimper of need that set plating rattling in pleasure.

His battle computer now practically purred with solutions.

As Sunstreaker rode Prowl’s spike, he’d tell the golden warrior how pretty he was, how good he was while Sideswipe wiggled and writhed because he had been bad. If the red frontliner was lucky, maybe Prowl would attach a false spike against the back of his desk for Sideswipe to masturbate his greedy valve on as he licked and sucked Sunstreaker and Prowl clean.

That thought, of Prowl entering his office to find Sideswipe under his desk, already sopping wet on a vibrating false spike, with Sunstreaker upside down under him, both their mouths filled with the other, sent charge racing through his circuits.

Running the simulation in his battle computer he added a third digit to his valve, and worked leaking transfluid at the tip of his spike.

He’d hear them before he saw them, his battle computer prompted.

Muffling their moans around each others spikes, the wet sopping slap of Sideswipe fragging himself senseless on that false spike of Prowl’s colours he’d have disobediently helped himself to would be heard. He’d walk around his desk to see Sunstreaker obediently spread his legs in invitation. His valve dripping, ready and waiting for his commanding officer, as Sideswipe would pop his mouth off his twin’s spike and give his twin’s valve a long tantalizing lick. Sunstreaker would be pulled along into his twin’s schemes by virtue of the nature of their sparks. Sideswipe would be relentless. Taunting, teasing his twin’s valve as he pumped himself into Sunstreaker’s mouth beneath him. Golden plating would tremble, a whine would escape him as his twin dragged him into being disobedient with him.

Prowl would have been firm with the rules before hand…

Mischievous optics would glare up at Prowl in challenge as the rules would be flagrantly broken in his face.

They’d both need to be punished then, and Prowl’d tease his spike between Sideswipe’s lips and the soft mesh of Sunstreaker’s valve. Scolding them for making a mess under his desk until they begged him to assign them their punishment.

Moans on the screen reaching new heights, Sunstreaker’s optics practically bleached white as he rolled his hips, working his valve up and down on Sideswipe’s spike, and Prowl envisioned sinking into that gorgeous mech’s valve as he’d work Sideswipe’s head deeper onto his twin’s spike, telling him not to spill a drop.

_Sideswipe wouldn’t listen._

Yes. 

His fingers increased in pace in his valve at the prompting of his battle computer’s predictions, smearing some of his lubricant onto his spike and groaned.

_Yes. Just like that._

He’d punish both of them for taking up his precious time until they were to exhaustedly licking each other’s valves and spikes clean to even consider a prank.

Sunstreaker overloaded silently on screen in time with his twin, vocalizers only spitting static as Prowl imagined they cried out their moans over their bond. Transfluid from Sunstreaker's spike Sideswipe was pumping in his hand, spurted out and Sideswipe leaned forward to try to catch what he could. A single spurt landed on Sideswipe’s chin and he darted his tongue down to lick it up as Sunstreaker milked each drop from his twin’s spike into his valve in time with Prowl’s hand on his own spurting spike.

The two of them collapsed, ventilation heaving, Sunstreaker trailing a finger up his own transfluid on Sideswipe’s armor and then dipping it into the other half of his spark’s mouth. Transfluid from his valve now seeping out and dripping down Sideswipe’s, around the still humming false spike in Sideswipe’s valve.

A puddle had formed on the brig berth.

Sunstreaker wasn’t whispering now, but Prowl had heard it whispered before: he was chastising Sideswipe over their bond for making a mess.

They’d clean it up together later, to hide their evidence.

Minimizing the current scene in the brig as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker regained some energy, kissing and sucking on each other’s mouths, Prowl found the end of the last time he recorded them in the brig. Reaching out, he slid open a drawer to his desk. Inside, he shuffled a few data pads to the side and opened the false bottom to reveal his toys. Fingers drifting over two false spikes, he paused as he considered which he wanted more.

Optics drifting to the recorded scene again; he coated both in lubricant.

Turning up the volume as loud as it would go, he slipped and worked in the length of one. Watching the recording of Sunstreaker ramming himself hard into a bent over Sideswipe, whispering to him in a hiss that he better hurry and clean up his mess he made on the berth before Prowl saw and punished them both, caused Prowl to toss back his head with a moan as sparks shot through his seams.

Listening to that sentence on loop, Prowl worked the second large spike into his valve, stretching and setting his caliper settings as he thrust them up to his ceiling node. Chasing another overload with two false spikes humming away and thrusting in his valve, he stared at the two empty chairs facing his desk.

This time he knew for sure Sideswipe hadn't been squirming in his seat because he’d been caught for pulling a prank. Sunstreaker had subtly shifted too.

It wasn’t nervousness, embarrassment, or cockiness at being caught that always caused them to lock optics with each other in his office.

No.

The Autobot’s split-spark frontliners were pulling pranks and getting revved up when _Prowl_ reprimanded them. Then fragging each other to exhaustion in the brig while dirty talking themselves and roleplaying about their commanding officer over their bond.

He finally had enough data points to pull a prank of his own, and watch them squirm until they begged him to assign them his new punishment duty he had developed for them.

His battle computer had learned exactly how those two brats liked it.

And he had spent his off hours sound proofing his office.

**Author's Note:**

> I marked this as complete but I might add more chapters when I need a break from finding plot holes with my long fics...because imagining Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's confusion then dawning understanding that Prowl is onto them amuses me. 
> 
> And Prowl might find that Sideswipe isn't so easily predicted by logic >:3
> 
> I'm open to suggestions, something might tickle my muse in the future.


End file.
